just like picket fences
by theotherthompson
Summary: "Of course," Tom says agreeably. "But you keep making these mistakes. If I didn't know better I would think you've fallen for me." TMRHP, time travel.


**AN:** QLFC Season 5 Rounad 5 entry. Prompts were _influence_ , _'A rose by any other name would smell as sweet,'_ and _ruby red_ (prompts 1, 5, and 13). I decided to take another crack at Tom Riddle/Harry Potter for this story since I was supposed to write about a character loving someone despite being mistreated by them, so here we have unhealthy relationship galore! I didn't want to straight up write abuse because I'm kind of uncomfortable with that, so I went for subtlety instead. Somehow being subtle became writing a nonlinear narrative. I don't know either.

Though really, if you are in a relationship where you're partner tries to isolate you from others and hurts those who try to talk to you, hurts you, and is possessive to an unhealthy degree, please consider talking to someone about it. These are not signs of a healthy, functional relationship.

Finally, the title of this fic comes from the song _Passionfruit_ by Drake - the full line being "tension between us just like picket fences."

Word count: 1, 844

* * *

Slughorn's Christmas party is in full swing by the time Harry arrives. He tugs down the sleeves of his uncomfortable, borrowed dress robes. Shifting nervously, he drifts around the crowd to hide in the corner of the room, away from where his 'date' is talking with a group of Ravenclaws. Harry's date smiles, his pearly white teeth flashing in the ambient lighting.

Harry eyes him carefully as he weaves his way through the crowd, his lips in a thin line as he tried to maintain a blank expression. He looks away just in time to spin around another student who had stumbled in his way. He grabs her hand before she can fall on her face and helps her straighten up.

"Thank you, Harry!" she squeaks. Harry gives her a small smile as he tries to remember her name.

"It's nothing," he says. He's already taking small steps back to complete his escape from his date. The girl follows him, which makes Harry momentarily frown. The frown is gone in an instance, replaced by a smile. "You should catch up to your friends," he points to her friends giggling a few paces away as they watched.

The girl looks put out, but then determined. Susan? Suzie? Harry's not sure.

"Are you - did you come with a date, Harry? You could stay with us," she says enthusiastically. Harry almost grimaces, barely maintaining his friendly expression.

"I couldn't," Harry says, the same time someone wraps an arm around his shoulder.

Harry loses the fight and grimaces, tensing slightly. He recovers quickly, giving Suzie-something a strained smile.

"Already leaving your date?" the person with their arm around him says.

Harry turns to give him a sharp smile. "I didn't know that you made jokes, Riddle." He turns to the girl. "We're here as friends, see."

Beside him, Tom Riddle smiles like a coyote.

* * *

Harry dives behind another tower of lost objects, barely avoiding Malfoy's Diffindo. The tower wobbles precariously, teetering back and forth. On the other side of the room, Harry can still hear Hermione and Ron shouting spells. Crabbe and Goyle had them pinned in the other corner, last he saw.

"Potter!" Malfoy yells. "Come out!"

Harry grimaces, breathing heavily as he considered what to do. The tower keeps swaying.

Thinking quickly, Harry casts a Bombarda on it as it teeters away from him. He runs as soon as the tower of junk begins raining down on Malfoy, moving towards cover. He quickly throws a _Stupefy_ over his shoulder, then has to dive away from the sturdy wooden desk he had been running towards when it explodes underneath a spell.

Malfoy yells again. Harry looks back just in time to see him cast a Bombarda Harry's way.

Harry yelps, but his reflexes are quick. He levitates a heavy box in front of him and braces for the debris.

The box explodes, sending bits of wood and glass everywhere. Harry gasps in pain as a few jagged pieces cut his skin and clothes. He winces when sand falls on him and into his cuts almost the same time the cuts appear. He coughs, covering his mouth and nose with his free hand. He stumbles a step back only to stop when he hears a crunch under his feet. Underneath his shoe is a broken Time Turner.

"Potter!" Malfoy yells again. His face looks - it looks different, like it's gray and faded. He's panicking, eyes wide as he reaches towards Harry.

Then Harry notices the rest of the room changing, going strangely indistinct. There's a strange stillness in him, stopping him from moving, while around him the world moves so quickly it's like the air is vibrating.

He knows this feeling. It's the same feeling he felt when he and Hermione had used her Time Turner in third year.

He looks back down to his feet in surprise, trying to scramble away. The sand around him is moving, circling him. It's the sand from the Time Turners, and he's surrounded by it and bits of other, broken ones.

He looks back up to see Malfoy completely fade away. Pain comes suddenly, lancing through him as he's wrenched through time.

* * *

"Oh," Suzie-something says, looking disappointed. "I see. I'll leave you two alone then."

Harry watches her leave, mindful to stay quiet until she's out of earshot.

"Let go," he says, trying to shrug Tom off. "You're hurting me." The hand on his shoulder tightens even further, until Harry is wincing. He'll have bruises tomorrow, no doubt.

"I told you to stay next to me tonight," Tom says. He finally loosens his grip, but doesn't let Harry go completely. He ignores Harry's dirty look, and starts moving them both to the dance floor. A couple of people are waltzing to the music of the small string quartet in an unobtrusive corner. Harry wonders briefly about how Slughorn had arranged this extravagant party before he's pulled into dance position by Tom. Tom leads them in the dance without saying a word.

As if on cue, most of the party begins to partner up to dance as well. Or maybe they were just waiting for Tom.

"You better not hurt her," Harry says after a few moments. "She just wanted to talk."

"She and her friends were actually planning to give you a drink spiked with a love potion later tonight," Tom says lightly, "but yes. She wanted to talk." He spins them around.

"It's not like you're any better than her," Harry says. He tries to step on Tom's toes and fails. Tom smiles like he's indulging a small child. "You made me come here with you. You always force me to do things for you."

"Ah, but you're wrong. I am better than her. You are, after all, already mine." The hand around Harry's tightens momentarily. "And you didn't have to kiss me, but you did it anyway." Under the light, Harry could have sworn that Tom's eyes flashed ruby red for a second, but the next turn changes the lighting and reveals only a deep brown.

Harry flushes. "That was a mistake."

"Of course," Tom says agreeably. "But you keep making them. If I didn't know better I would think you've fallen for me."

Tom looks down into Harry's eyes. "It would be helpful if you were," he says quietly, his voice like silk. "Since I've decided to keep you."

* * *

Harry falls to the floor, so dizzy he can't even see what's in front of him. He groans, lying still as he waits for the nausea to pass. He's not sure if he's still under the influence of the sand from the Time Turners or not - the room keeps moving.

He heaves himself up, stumbling forward. He grabs hold of the nearest thing to steady himself and nearly trips over when he grabs the back of a chair with only three legs. He pauses, getting his bearings.

He's in the Room of Requirements, but he's the only one there. There's no trace of the skirmish against Malfoy and his cronies. There's no trace of Ron or Hermione either. How far back in time was he sent? Is Hogwarts still under attack?

He runs, ignoring the pain that throbs through his body, and crashes out the Room's door. He pauses when he finds Hogwarts completely silent, looking no worse for wear than when he had first seen it as a first year.

"Who's there?"

Harry turns to see someone move out of the shadows.

" _Stupefy_!" Harry casts without thinking. In front of him, Tom Riddle - a younger version, one that's only a bit older than the diary version of him - dodges, a surprised look on his face. The surprise melts into irritation. He sends a curse that Harry doesn't recognise back in retaliation.

The fight is a blur, as most fights are. Harry tries to retreat away from Riddle and go back into the Room of Requirements to figure out what had happened, but Riddle catches on and starts to herd Harry away with a few well-placed jinxes.

Thinking quickly, Harry casts his Patronus, hoping it would startle Riddle enough to give him an opening. Just as he'd thought, Riddle pauses when he sees the silvery stag charge him and even jumps out of the way.

He turns to Harry just in time to see the Expelliarmus sent his way, but he doesn't have any time to dodge or deflect it. Riddle's wand soars into Harry's hand.

Riddle doesn't look concerned, though. He looks interested.

Harry hears hurried footsteps before he can do much else. He turns, placing his back to the wall and keeping Riddle in sight as he confronts the newest threat.

A younger, _alive_ Dumbledore stands at the end of the hall, blinking in surprise under his half-moon spectacles. Harry drops Riddle's wand in surprise, and doesn't even flinch when the wand flies back into Riddle's hand.

"Who are you?" Dumbledore asks, coming closer. His hands are out in front of him, like he's trying to approach a scared animal. "What happened to you?"

Harry swallows, stepping back automatically until his back is against the cool flagstone.

The hand holding his wand aloft and ready in front him is trembling. There's blood soaking the sleeve, making the fabric stick to his skin uncomfortably. Maybe he is a scared animal.

In retrospect, he should have expected the Stunning Spell from Riddle, but he didn't. He falls to the floor for the second time this day, unconscious.

When he next wakes up, it'll be to a nightmare where Dumbledore is suspicious of him, Tom Riddle is interested in him, and he has no help getting back to his own time.

* * *

Harry glares at Tom, ready to spring into action and punch him in front of at least fifty other students. Tom smirks. "Behave. I'd rather not have to tell Dumbledore that you've been stealing books out of the restricted section. At least not until you tell me why yourself." Blackmail again. Harry thinks back to the books on time travel that he'd taken from the library. He's sure he hid them securely, but with Tom he's never sure. Tom knows Hogwarts as well as Harry does, maybe even better.

"I hate you," Harry says, scowling.

"You don't hate me." Tom says back. He spins them around the dance floor.

"I really do," Harry says, more firmly this time. Tom looks Harry in the eyes.

"'A rose by any other name would smell as sweet,'" Tom replies. "That is to say, whatever you call your feelings for me doesn't matter. You still feel it. You're still mine."


End file.
